The Fall of the Castle
by contrite shadow
Summary: A clash with white supremists forces Beckett to face the idea of life without Castle.


The Fall of the Castle

Clair calls Castle, from her apartment, to say, "Sorry, that I left so abruptly."

"That's ok. Everyone was winding down anyway. Anything you want to tell me?"

"Like…?"

"Like; I found your cards. You threw the hand, so you could leave with Beckett."

"Oh. That." Taking a deep breath, she says, "Well, you've made it very clear, that you don't want to talk about Kate…Beckett. And the not talking was getting a little loud. So tonight seemed like a good opportunity to find out if she's willing to talk about you." After several seconds, without a reply, she laughs and says, "See; loud not talking."

"Sorry. I'm just not quite sure what I'm meant to say."

"Try…first thing that comes to mind."

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Get me out of this conversation?"

"I hope you're smiling right now."

"Yes, I'm smiling. So…what did she say?"

"She said you're sweet, but that she wishes you would stop following her around."

"See, I know you're lying. Beckett would never call me _sweet_."

Clair laughs, and says, "Ok, you got me. No, she said…not much at all, really. I told her that I know you're in love with her, and she kind of froze, like a deer in headlights." There's a sudden cacophony of choking and coughing on the line. So she asks, "Rick? You ok?"

There's a bit more coughing, then Castle gasps, "Yep, fine. Must remember not to snack on pretzels next time we talk."

Cursing herself for going too far, she says, "Let's just drop it. I'll talk to you tomorrow…"

"Now, wait a minute. I'm still catching my breath." After a pause, he continues, "Ok, assuming you're correct, and I'm not saying you are. Because I don't see how you can know what I feel for Beckett, when I'm not sure myself…well, how do _you_ feel about it?"

After thinking about it, Clair asks, "Do you have any immediate plans to explore your feelings for Ka…Beckett?"

"No. Though I am deadly serious about exploring my feelings for you."

Smiling, she says, "How can you manage to make _that_ sound dirty?"

Castle says, with pride, "It's a gift." After a second he says, "You didn't answer the question."

"Well, all it means is that you might one day prefer someone else to me, and that's always true, isn't it? The fact that I know the someone…it's unusual. But, I don't think it necessarily has to make it worse…I'm not explaining this very well."

"No, you're explaining it just right. You're saying that, unless I keep trying to protect you, even though you're warned me against doing just that, then my friendship with Beckett makes no difference to my increasingly alarming feelings for you."

"Alarming?"

"It's alarming how much I want to see you right now. Can I come over?"

With real regret, Clair says, "Right now that sounds like an excellent idea. But it's my first day back at work, and I really should sleep."

"We could sleep." Then grimaces, when the words sound way more lecherous than he intended.

Chuckling, she says, "You really can't help it, can you? And, if you came over here right now, I'd just end up back in hospital with re-fractured ribs."

"That's a bit unfair. I've already proven that I can control myself enough not to hurt you."

"Didn't say I was talking about you, Rick."

* * *

><p>Beckett calls the next morning, with news of a suspicious fire at Allen St. She explains, "It's a family-owned store, and residence above; nine people dead, including five children. Fire Department investigators have already determined that it was started by Molotov cocktails, thrown at ground-floor windows. They're made from everyday chemicals; almost impossible to trace. Given that the two families are Muslim, and part of the building is an Islamic center, we're also working with the Hate Crimes Task Force. So it's a full house. I'll see you there."<p>

Castle arrives at the scene, with coffees for everyone. Ryan and Esposito are grateful, but wary of this break with tradition. Ryan even surreptitiously sniffs the cup, just to be sure. Esposito comments, "You're in a good mood."

"Clair is back at work today."

"Ah, I see. Well enough to work; well enough to play, right?"

He grins, showing fingers-crossed, for luck. Looking over the crowd, he asks, "Where's the girls?"

"Lanie accompanied the bodies to the morgue. She's one of the team of examiners helping out with the autopsies. And Beckett's inside what's left of the building. If you're going in there, you might want to cover your shoes."

After slipping the blue, plastic booties over his shoes, Castle comments, "You don't see these much, on the crime shows, do you?"

Ryan says, "Yeah, because no actor wants to look like a dork."

"Well, thankfully, I have the savoir faire to carry it off."

"The what now?"

"And that's why _you_ look like a dork."

Confused, Ryan watches him go and asks Esposito, "Did he just burn me in French?"

"Oui."

* * *

><p>Even as Castle approaches the gutted building, the smell is overwhelming. He knows the bodies have been removed, there's still a sickly-sweet smell, like barbequed pork, and the unmistakable scent of burnt hair. It's mixed with an acrid, metallic odor like copper pipes heated beyond endurance. That, combined with the smell of wood-smoke and burning plastic is enough to make Castle grateful that he hasn't yet had breakfast.<p>

The external walls are still standing, but the interior walls are gone, as is the second floor and roof. The security grates on the ground-floor windows are still intact, though the glass is smashed or melted to the frames. After stepping through what was the front door, he spies Beckett talking to someone. For a second he wonders how she got the black booties, but thankfully realizes his error before opening his mouth. Nodding at her soot-blackened shoes, he says, "You've been here a while."

She thanks him for the coffee, and says, "Yeah, for all the good it's done. There's not much left. Castle, this is George Scanlon; the supervising Fire Marshall. George, this is Rick Castle."

Scanlon shakes his hand and says, "Oh, the writer." And Castle wishes, yet again, that people would stop saying it like that; as if he's never done anything of value in his life. They were obviously just finishing, because Scanlon says goodbye, promising to keep in touch. Castle gives Beckett time to drink her coffee, before asking, "What next?"

"Next, we go to the hospital. None of the adults made it, but a twelve year old girl got out early and might be able to tell us something. Then we go through every file Scanlon sends us, and try to find similarities with other hate crimes. And I need to talk to the task force, to make sure that we're not getting in each other's way."

"Long day, then?"

"Long week, I suspect."

* * *

><p>On the way to the hospital, Beckett shares what she knows of the victims, "They came here from Mali, nine years ago. Mr. Bagayoko and his brother-in-law worked years driving cabs, before they'd saved enough to open the delicatessen. With the way things have been, he had to go back to driving, just so they could stay in business. His wife called him around 3am, after the fire had taken over the ground floor, and engulfed the stairs. He told her to get everyone out the windows, then hung up and dialed 911. Of course, he called her right back. But she never answered. Firefighters arrived in time to save two of the youngest children, but the second floor collapsed, and they had to back off. Mr. Bagayoko just lost his wife, his sister and her husband, his nephew, his mother and four of his five children. He went into shock, and collapsed at the scene. I'm hoping he's better by now, because we need his permission to interview the girl."<p>

At Emergency, they meet the young girl's father, Seydou Bagayoko. He's checking on his nieces; twin sisters, only two years old. Other than his daughter, they're all that's left of his family. After offering her condolences, Beckett enquires after his daughter. Mr. Bagayoko is handling the worst day of his life with quiet dignity. But Castle notices that all life has left his eyes, when he says, "She is blaming herself. She thinks that she should have done more to help them. I wasn't even there, and she blames herself." The last sentence is almost a question, but he clearly doesn't expect them to know the answer, and leads them to this daughter's bedside. Just outside the door, Beckett asks Castle, "Mind staying here? I don't want to hit her with more than is necessary."

"Of course. I'll wait."

Djeneba Bagayoko is beautiful. Her skin is even darker than her father's, and smooth enough to reflect light. Her long, black hair is usually styled in neat braids, but is now a wild mane surrounding her face. A thin tube under her nose feeds her oxygen, and one ankle is wrapped in a fresh cast. But she's otherwise unhurt. She seems to be sleeping, but opens her eyes when her father sits down, takes her hand and says her name. The look of guilt that appears in her eyes almost breaks Beckett's heart. Seydou says, "Umayma, this lady is a detective. She is trying to find out who started the fire. Just answer her questions, as best you can. I'll be right here, ok?"

"Yes, papa." Her voice is hoarse, presumably from smoke inhalation. So Beckett silently resolves to keep her questions to a minimum. She takes the chair next to the other side of the bed, and says, "Djeneba, I'm Kate. Thankyou, for speaking with me. You're very brave. When I ask you a question, take your time and think about it, before you answer. Nothing you say will get you into trouble. And, if you want to stop, just squeeze your Dad's hand, ok?"

The guilt is fading from her eyes, as she says, "Ok."

Satisfied, Beckett proceeds, "When you jumped out the window, did you see anyone in the street?"

"No. But I saw a car driving away…a big, white car."

Thrilled at the news, Beckett tries to remain calm, "Was it a new car, or an old car?"

"Old, and loud."

"Did it have a roof, or was it a convertible?"

"It had a roof."

"Is there anything else you can remember about the car? Did you see any of the plate numbers? Take your time."

After considering for so long, that Beckett wonders if she's had enough, Djeneba says, "I don't think there was a number plate. But there were stickers on the back window…one was like an American flag, there was one of a gun…a rifle, and…."

Her voice is failing, so Beckett says, "That's ok. If I send an officer here with pictures of stickers, do you think you could recognize the ones from the car?"

"I think so."

"Thankyou. This will help us a lot. If you think of anything else, tell your father, and he'll call me. Just get better, ok." Djeneba is already falling asleep. Beckett thanks Seydou and leaves them in peace.

Castle is waiting outside the room and asks, "Anything?"

"Maybe. She saw a car. No plates. But the task force might be able to find the owner by the decal on the rear window. Mostly, the people who'd do this aren't very original, but it might narrow our search."

They're heading out of the hospital, when Castle sees the distinctive blue and white of Clair's Honda motorcycle leathers, and says, "Clair? What are you doing here?"

"Rick! Kate. Bert was brought in this morning. They won't let me see him, because I'm not family. Apparently, the fact that we used to be married makes it even less likely that I'll see him. But his sister can't get here until tonight."

Castle looks to Beckett for help. She nods and heads to the front desk. He asks Clair, "Is he ok? What happened?"

"He was first responder to a fire. All I know is the roof collapsed under him."

"Not the fire on Allen St?"

"How…oh, that's why you're here."

Beckett returns, and says to Clair, "Burns Unit; room 12. You shouldn't have any trouble now. I hope he's ok." And then, to Castle, "I'll see you later."

* * *

><p>Clair is understandably upset, so Castle takes her hand, as they approach Bert's room. On entering the room, she clasps his hand tighter. Bert is propped up in bed, receiving oxygen and intravenous fluids. One leg is outside the sheet and heavily bandaged. There are scratches on his face and arms and just breathing appears to cause him pain. But he smiles, on seeing Clair. She rushes to his side, saying, "God, Bert. What happened?"<p>

"I'm fine, really. It looks much worse than it is." And then adds, "Hi Rick."

Castle says, "Hey, Bert. Looks like you'll be here a little while. I'll get some supplies. Any special requests for reading material?"

Of course, Bert realizes that Castle is giving them time alone, and says, "No. But, thankyou."

Castle takes his time to and from the gift shop. When he returns, Clair is sitting by the bed, holding Bert's hand. It's obvious that they've both been crying. He ignores it and says, "Not knowing what you like I got a car magazine, one about sports, and another that you should probably keep in the drawer, ok?"

"Thanks, Rick. That's perfect."

Clair stands up, kisses Bert goodbye, and says, "Ok, we'd better go. Sammi will be here later, and I'll see you tomorrow. Get some rest, ok?"

Bert smiles, and says, "Yes ma'am." His eyes are already closing, as they leave.

Once outside the room, Clair turns to Castle for comfort, as his arms encircle her. After a while, he says, "Look, I've got some time, and I haven't had breakfast. I'm guessing you haven't either. If you don't have to get back to work, what about brunch…somewhere not here?"

Her reply is somewhat muffled by his chest, but he hears, "Sounds good."

After a decent cup of coffee, and a good breakfast, Clair feels like talking, "Bert and another firefighter went onto the roof, with Bert attached by a safety line to his buddy. He found a tar-covered skylight, and broke it, for access. Once the smoke had cleared, he saw a teenage boy, carrying two little girls. He reached down, and the boy passed the girls to him. Bert was able to get the girls clear, but the roof collapsed, as he was returning for the boy. Only the safety line saved him." She struggles to speak for a while, before continuing, "Apparently, they're going to give him a medal. He said "How can they give _me_ a medal, when the last words that boy spoke were to ask me to save his sisters first?" I've known him for ten years, and that's only the second time I've seen him cry."

* * *

><p>When Castle returns to the precinct, Beckett asks after Bert. He's reassuring her, that Bert will be fine, when he feels the guys staring at him. So he says, "What?"<p>

Ryan says, "Her ex is a firefighter?"

Esposito corrects him, "A firefighter, who rescues little children."

Castle accuses Beckett, "What did you tell them?"

She explains, "I only mentioned that you were staying at the hospital, because Clair's ex was hurt in the fire. They found out the rest, by themselves.

Esposito explains further, "It's all over the news, bro. He's a hero. He'll get a commendation."

Looking at a news article on his computer, Ryan adds, "And he's a good-looking guy too."

Castle knows what they're trying to do, and says, "It's not like that. I've seen them together. He's more like a brother."

Beckett says, "I dunno, Castle. What if _he_ is her deep-fried Twinkie?"

The look of horror on Castle's face is what she's been waiting for. She leans in and says, "_Now_, we're even."

Castle catches on quick, and says, "Oh, that's just…mean. No way one evening spent searching for nostril flare compares to the nasty images you just put in my head!"

"Now, Castle, you and I both know that the nastiness was there long before we met."

Forced to concede the point, he says, "Ok, I'll give you that. But this is _not_ over. Watch your back, Beckett."

She's clearly unafraid, and just says, "Don't take your coat off. We've got a lead." On the way to the elevator, she explains, "There's a viral video of the fire. It looks like someone took the footage on their phone. It's already been posted on several sites, dedicated to white supremacy."

Recovering, Castle asks, "Can the techs trace that sort of thing?"

"They can, given enough time. But I've got a better idea. A friend of mine is obsessed with American muscle cars. He swears that they all sound different. So he might be able to help us."

"Is he really that good?"

"Good enough that his testimony is occasionally permitted in court. Plus, he can dismantle and reassemble a Pontiac engine, without any bits left over."

Shrugging, Castle says, "Well, it's not something I could do. But that doesn't seem very impressive."

Beckett smiles, and explains, "He's been blind, since birth."

"Ok, that's a little impressive."

* * *

><p><em>Dave's Garage<em> is a run-down building near the water, little more than a large warehouse. The roar of car engines fills the air. Several muscle cars, in various stages of disrepair, surround the place. The only thing that makes this garage unusual, is that all the cars are parked neatly. Once inside, the sound of engines revving, and exhaust fans humming, is almost loud enough to preclude conversation. Beckett is obviously known to the mechanics, and is pointed in the direction of a man working on a Dodge Charger. She's about to announce herself, when he stands up, and removes his earplugs, saying, "Detective Beckett! What brings you to the docks?"

"Hi Dave. I've got a challenge for you."

"Always glad of a challenge." After a second, he looks right at Castle, and says, "Your companion is either corrupt, or he's not a cop."

"Dave, this is Rick Castle. He's a consultant."

Dave Green introduces himself, extending his hand in greeting. As Castle shakes his hand, he realizes that there's no way Dave could have been looking at him, because his eyes never focus on anything.

Dave walks over to a wall and flicks the lights on and off. Within seconds the entire garage goes quiet, leaving Castle's ears in shock. The few other mechanics gather around them, obviously used to the routine. Beckett opens the video on her phone and plays only the sound of the car driving away. After giving it his full attention, Dave says, "Again." Having heard it a second time he says, "Boys?"

As one, they give different answers, "Mustang!", "Impala!", "Oldsmobile!"

Dave points towards one young man, and says, "Chevy Impala." Looking at Beckett, he adds, "Probably the '62, or '63. But, leave it with me, and I'll find out more." He turns back to the boys, and says, "Show's over. And Mac is on lock-up tonight, for saying _Mustang_."

Once they've dispersed, Beckett sends the video to Dave's phone, and says, "Sent. Don't show it around, ok?"

"Of course." After a pause, he says, "Sounded like a fire?"

"Yeah, it's not good. Thanks, Dave."

"Any time, Kate."

They're almost to the door, when Castle asks, "How did he know I'm not a cop?"

Without looking up from his work, Dave explains, "No way an honest cop can afford that aftershave."

* * *

><p>Back at the station, Esposito has news, "Mr. Bagayoko's landlord has been trying to evict him. With that building being one of the few two-storeys left in the city, it would be worth much more, if it were leveled and replaced. But the terms of the lease mean that the landlord would have to pay several hundred thousand dollars, for improvements made to the property over the years. And the lease was just renewed; a five year lease. So, he was looking at having to wait years, before he could do anything. Of course, now he can go ahead, because it's been condemned. It's a long-shot, but worth looking at, just in case."<p>

Ryan also has something, "We got a hit off those car window decals. Most of them were typical stuff, like NRA membership, and White Power slogans. But one shows that they're a member of a small gun club operating out of a rifle range on the West Side. If we're lucky, the car is known at the range. If not, we can check out the club members. So we were thinking we should check it out?"

Beckett smiles, and says, "You were _thinking_ that you'd rather end your shift at a rifle range, than discussing commercial leasing laws with the landlord."

Their guilty looks confirm her theory. She nods to the door, and they flee, before she changes her mind. At Castle's look, she asks, "You going too?"

He's seriously considering it, but then says, "No, that's ok. I'll stick with you."

Taking the name and address information from Esposito's desk, Beckett says, "Then let's go."

* * *

><p>It's already getting dark, as they approach their destination; a Park-Safe on East Houston St. Beckett parks inside, and they head for the door marked <em>Manager<em>. On the way, she spots something amongst the rows of cars on the upper level. She nudges Castle's arm, and points to a white Chevy Impala. Just in case it's the one they're looking for, they head up to investigate. They're almost at the top of the stairs, when Beckett sees a young man approaching the car. Before he gets in, and they lose the opportunity, she says, "Excuse me, sir; NYPD. May I speak with you?" He hasn't heard her, and continues to the back of the car, opening the trunk. He's Caucasian, with shaven head, and his arms are covered in tattoos. Even in the fading light Beckett can see the swastika on his left forearm. So she unclips her sidearm, and reaches for her radio. Then calmly says, "Castle, find some cover."

He hasn't sensed the danger, and starts to speak. She turns and pushes him toward a nearby car, insisting, "Now!" So she doesn't see the M16, until the man is already raising it to aim at them. Her instincts take over, and she ducks behind a concrete pillar, just as all Hell breaks loose. Chunks of concrete blast from the pillar, impacting her body. But she ignores the pain. Without breaking cover, she radios for help. All the while trying to force her brain to remember how many rounds are in the clip of an M16. Then realizes that there's no way she can count the shots anyway. Forcing herself to relax, and wait for an opportunity, she's grateful to see that Castle is sensible enough to keep his head down. He's hunkered down behind one of the car wheels. He's rightly terrified, and winces at almost every shot, but gives her a thumbs-up, to show that he's ok.

There it is; the silence she's been waiting for. She risks a glance, and sees the man reaching into the trunk of the car. Keeping what cover she can, Beckett takes aim and shouts, "Police! Drop it!" He doesn't. As he shoves another clip into the rifle, she fires five shots almost without thinking about it. She approaches with extreme caution, then pushes the gun away from him, and confirms that he's dead. Not yet willing to relax, she heads back to Castle, saying, "He's dead. But stay down, until the backup…" It's only then that she sees how pale he is, that his breath is shallow and fast, and his hands are clasped over the wound on his thigh, as blood pools beneath him.

He looks at her, his eyes already losing focus, and says, "Sorry."

Refusing to consider that anything she does might be a waste of time, Beckett's mind leaps into first-aid mode. She says, "Lie down. You've got to lie down." Once that's done, she pushes his hands away, and leans into the wound, to limit the blood loss.

Castle bellows in pain, and says, through gritted teeth, "Not at all how I'd imagined your hands on my thigh."

Relieved that he's well enough to tease her, she says, "Funny, this is _exactly_ how I pictured it." Constantly scanning the area, just in case there's still a danger, she says, "They'll be here any second, Castle. I already called it in."

Confused, he asks, "Did Javi bring the drinks?"

She recognizes the symptom, so she's fighting back tears, when she says, "No, Castle. Esposito isn't here. You're going into shock. Just try and relax. If you can calm your heart-rate, it might slow the blood loss."

"That's about the least relaxing sentence I've ever heard. You suck at this."

"I'm sorry, Castle. I'm sorry."

"Oh God, are you crying? There's no way you'd let me see you cry, unless you're sure I'm dying."

Beckett furiously shakes her head, to get rid of the tears, and says, "No, I'm not crying." The tears keep coming anyway. But she can hear the sirens now, and says, "You're not going to die. You're going to have a short ride in an ambulance, and then flirt with nurses, until they kick you out of the hospital."

Castle starts squirming. Beckett is about to beg him to keep still, when he takes his phone out of his pocket and puts it in hers, saying, "You know who to call, right?"

She reassures him, "Yeah, I know who to call." So he sighs in relief, and relaxes.

Then he says, in a drunken voice, "I'm cold. Is that shock too?" And his eyes close. Almost panicked, Beckett considers taking pressure off the wound, to check his pulse. But then notices that she can feel a pulse under her hands, anyway. Seconds later NYPD tactical officers swarm up the stairs, followed by Emergency Medical Technicians. They deftly take over from Beckett. Getting out of their way, she says, "His name's Rick. He was conscious until a few moments ago."

One EMT is trying to get a response, as they put him on a stretcher. Castle's eyes flicker open, but he doesn't speak, and his gaze is unfocussed. Beckett takes a second to update the officers, before following the stretcher down the stairs. Ryan and Esposito are just running in the gate. One look at her tear-streaked face and blood-soaked hands, and they know to be worried. So they don't ask questions. Esposito just says, "We got this. You go."

* * *

><p>For the first time since she can remember, Beckett uses the siren and lights in the car, and shepherds the ambulance to the hospital. With nothing to do once she gets there, but wait for news, she remembers to get out Castle's phone and make some calls. And almost drops it when she sees his blood all over it. So she has to wipe it clean, before calling the people he cares about the most. Once that job is done, she scrounges some scrubs and changes her clothes, cleaning up as best she can. It's then that she notices the bruises and scratches on her ribs, presumably from the concrete. But she decides it's not worth worrying about. Then there's more waiting. Time appears to be stretching.<p>

It seems ages before Martha and Alexis arrive, but Beckett's watch tells her that it's only been twenty minutes. They're frantic, and Beckett can't tell them much. She hasn't finished explaining what happened, when Clair bursts through the doors. So Beckett explains again. She doesn't mind though. Because anything is better than imagining what tomorrow will be like, if all this waiting brings bad news.

After several hours, they've started measuring time by the number of empty coffee cups in the waiting room. And other patients have come and gone. But all they know is that Castle is still in surgery. Ryan and Esposito join them, and inform Beckett that the man she shot is the landlord's nephew. Esposito explains, "There's a lot more work to do. But it looks like the nephew started the fire, to help out his uncle, but without his knowledge. The landlord found out, after the fact, and suggested that his nephew hide out in the garage, until they figure out what to do."

Ryan concludes, "When you identified yourself, he must have thought you'd tracked him down."

Beckett says, "I didn't have anything on him…didn't even know who he was. We only went up there, because the car matched the description I got from Dave."

They shrug, and Ryan says, "Just dumb luck. It could have happened to anyone."

Beckett isn't prepared to concede that she didn't get Castle shot. But she's grateful for Ryan's efforts.

Clair is the first to notice a surgeon approaching, and rises to her feet, followed closely by everyone else. When he says, "He's stable for now." They all breathe again. He continues, "The surgery was a success. Thankfully it was only a small bit of shrapnel, so the damage to the artery wasn't severe. He's still considered critical, but he's conscious and vital signs are fair." Looking at how many people are waiting, he says, "Only next-of-kin can see him, I'm afraid. The rest of you will have to come back later. If he continues to improve, you can see him after midday."

* * *

><p>After thanking everyone for showing up, Martha and Alexis follow the surgeon. And then Ryan and Esposito say their goodbyes. Even though the waiting room is becoming crowded, Beckett feels like it's just her and Clair. Knowing how close this came to being a very bad day, she can't even look at her. But Clair isn't about to let her get away with that, and says, "Thankyou."<p>

For a second, Beckett thinks she must have misheard, and echoes, "Thankyou?"

"For saving his life."

Confused, and still full of guilt, Beckett insists, "His life was only in danger, because of me. I shouldn't have gone up those stairs."

"His life was in danger, because he chose it, and will probably continue to choose it after today. Because he loves the work you two do...loves that he's making a difference. The only other thing he talks about with the same amount of pride is Alexis."

It's going to take more than the truth, to ease Beckett's guilt. But she's a little less angry with herself, and asks, "Does he know, that you're completely out of his league?"

Clair laughs, and jokes, "Yeah, he knows." After hesitating, she says, "Actually, while we've got all this time, there's something I've wanted to discuss with you."

A little afraid, Beckett says, "What is it?"

With obvious reticence, Clair says, "I know you looked into my past, when I was a suspect. So you know..." She's having trouble continuing.

"I've seen the file. But you know that's confidential, right? I didn't even tell Castle."

"Yeah, thanks for that. But the way things are going, I'll have to tell him soon."

"How much does he know?"

"All I've told him is that I don't have any family. He was good enough to not ask questions, but...he's a mystery writer, who solves crimes in his spare time. And I've given him a mystery to solve, so…"

"So, you'd have more luck getting him to accept a vow of chastity, than stop him pursuing it?"

"Exactly."

"Are you asking me to tell him? Because, I don't think…"

"No, I _want_ to tell him. It's just…God, I can't even talk to you about it, and you already know."

Chewing her lip for a second, Beckett says, "My mother was murdered. It's the reason I became a cop. For years I thought of nothing else. Then I swung in the opposite direction, and shut down. Castle made me look at it again. I didn't like it. Our friendship almost didn't survive. But I'm grateful to him, for making me face it. Because, it hurts less than it used to, and I wouldn't have known that, if he hadn't bullied me. And…the part of me that I shut down, it was important. He showed me that, too."

"So, you think I should just tell him?"

"I do. And I think that, if you tell him, before he's compelled to interfere…well, maybe it'll be easier on you, than it was on me."

"Ok. Thanks, Kate." Clair sighs, as if a weight has been lifted, and then asks, "So, how do we decide who gets to see him first?"

"Rock-paper-scissors?" Clair wins the first round, so Beckett says, "Best two out of three?" They continue playing, until they're both tired enough to sleep on the hard, plastic chairs.

* * *

><p>By the time Beckett and Clair are permitted to see Castle, they've forgotten who won the game. So they go in together. Martha and Alexis are still there, but say goodbye, now that Castle has someone to keep him company. Beckett is a little stunned, when Alexis hugs her before leaving, and Martha says, "Thankyou, Kate."<p>

Still unsure of herself, Beckett feels like she's walking on shifting sand. She hangs back while Clair kisses Castle as if he almost died since they last saw each other. It gives Beckett enough time to see that he's on a saline drip and intravenous analgesics. He still looks very pale, except for the dark marks under his eyes. Despite all that, he looks pretty damn good to her right now. He's obviously feeling good too. Because, after kissing Clair, he says, "Next!"

Clair makes a show of hiding her eyes. Under such relentless, friendly bullying, Beckett concedes, and kisses him on the cheek, saying, "That's all you're getting."

Quite satisfied, he leans back, saying, "That's all I need." And then he asks Clair, "How's Bert?"

"He's fine. They didn't even keep him overnight. The poor guy's been beset by requests for an interview."

"No good deed goes unpunished, I guess." His brow crinkles in concern, and he says, "Beckett, you're hurt."

Confused, she looks where he's pointing to see some spots of blood on the linen shirt, and says, "No. It's nothing; just a few scratches."

"You got shot too?"

Uncomfortable at being the focus of attention, she insists, "No, just some chips of concrete. Really, Castle, I'm fine."

He turns to Clair, asking, "Can you make her see reason, please?"

Putting her hands up, in defense, Clair says, "Nothing to do with me."

So Castle plays his trump card, saying, "Kate, please. If you don't get it looked at, I'll be forced to worry."

Defenseless against such an attack, she says, "Ok, Castle. I'll see someone, before I go."

He relaxes again, and then says, "Oh, look what I got!" He shows them a sample jar with a tiny bit of metal inside, saying, "They think it's a bullet fragment, probably ricocheted off the stair railing."

Beckett says, "It's not very big, is it?"

She immediately regrets her words, when he says, "It's not about the size, but where you…"

"Ok, Castle. You're obviously fine. I'll go get these scratches looked at, and then sleep for twelve hours. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ok. Thanks for not getting me dead."

"I'm sure you'll make me regret it, but you're welcome." She remembers to return his phone, and leaves them alone. It's only after she leaves the room, that she realizes the ground is once more solid beneath her feet. And she heads to Triage, to make good on her promise.

Looking at the empty doorway, Castle says, "I thought she'd be blaming herself. But she seems fine."

Without revealing how, Clair says, "She was pretty deep into self-hate while you were in surgery, but she saw reason."

It's close enough to his earlier phrasing, that Castle asks, "Did you talk to her?"

"Well, we had to wait a long time. And she wouldn't even look at me."

"Oh, I see how it is. I'm not allowed to try and protect your feelings, but you're allowed to do the same to Beckett?"

"Well, I'm much better at it than you are."

"Evidently. Thanks."

With a sigh, he leans back, as if suddenly tired, prompting Claire to ask, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah. It's just that this is not how I imagined my week starting. After finishing work on Monday, you would have been healed enough for some prolonged, but cautious, love-making. So, right about now I'd be making you an omelet. And you'd come out of your bedroom, looking all cute and disheveled, to tell me that I'm the best you've ever had." He pauses, to exaggerate his sad face, before continuing, "And now I've been shot! It could be weeks before I'm well enough to make omelets."

Once she's recovered from laughing, Clair has to kiss him again. And then says, "We'll work something out. But that fantasy you have going on there would never have happened."

Confident that it's pretty close, he says, "Oh, you don't think so?"

"Absolutely; I'm out of eggs." He smiles, but she can see that he really is tired now, and says, "You'd better sleep. I'll be back tomorrow." It's a while before they're done saying goodbye.

After finally dragging herself away, Clair is donning her motorcycle gear, before getting on the CBR, when she gets a text message. It's from Rick; "Buy eggs!"

* * *

><p>Castle is in hospital for two more nights. He's entertained by a steady stream of visitors, including both of his ex-wives, thankfully not on the same day. His room gradually fills with useless, well-intended gifts like flowers and message balloons. His favorite gift is a large Get Well card, signed by everyone at the 12th precinct, containing such gems as "Next time, duck!", "Welcome to the GSW club.", and "Chicks dig scars." Despite the awful jokes, he's genuinely moved that they've responded as if one of their own has been injured. By Wednesday morning, not even being the constant center of such attention can keep him from considering making a run for it. But the doc gives him the all-clear, so he informs his regular visitors of his impending freedom, and heads home.<p>

Getting out of the cab, whilst juggling an overnight bag and crutches, is a bit of a struggle. But he makes it into the building. Alexis meets him in the foyer, saying, "Dad. Why didn't you let us pick you up?" Not waiting for an answer, she hugs him, and takes his bag. Seemingly without taking breath, Alexis continues, "Gram's invited Clair for dinner later. But Clair told me, to tell you, that she totally understands if you'd rather just chill this evening. So, what do you think?"

"I think you should speak _much_ slower, whilst I'm on powerful medication. But dinner sounds good. Thanks, sweetie."

Even with Alexis over-helping, Castle makes it to his apartment without mishap. Martha doesn't cope well, with seeing him on crutches. But she's soon distracted, by her need to be the focus of attention, saying, "I've invited Clair over for dinner. I thought it's about time we got to know each other. You've been keeping her from me, far too long. I was thinking Italian. Does she like Italian? Because I could just as easily go for Thai...or maybe Sushi. Is she allergic to seafood? "

Castle "Yes, mother…"s his way to the sofa and sits down, with a sigh of relief, and props his injured leg up on the coffee table, to ease the pain. Then he holds up a hand for silence, and says, "There will be no more discussion of dinner plans. And, if I don't have the TV remote in my hand in three seconds, I'm going back to the hospital." Alexis leaps to do his bidding, and a contrite Martha kisses his cheek, saying, "Sorry, darling. Just glad you're home."

After a day spent watching TV, interspersed with regular napping, Castle is feeling good. Clair arrives on time for dinner, in civilian clothes, making Castle wonder if she's nervous about the evening. Because it must have been a stretch to get home and change after work, before heading across town again. But he appreciates the effort, and says, "You look good."

Smiling her thanks, she says, "So do you. You're a normal color again."

It's only when Martha greets Clair warmly, that he realizes that they must have spent some time together, while he was in hospital. He can't think of a particular reason why that should make him nervous, but it does. Shaking off any concern, he decides to have a lovely evening, and does just that.

Martha and Alexis insist on cleaning up, not that there's much to do, given that the entire meal was delivered to their door. So Castle hobbles back to the sofa, inviting Clair to join him. She's definitely nervous. He can see it now, in the way she's holding her hands on her lap. So he covers both her hands with one of his, and she relaxes a little. When she looks at him he mouths, "What?" She almost imperceptibly nods towards Martha and whispers, "Terrifying." His explosion of laughter momentarily attracts Martha's attention. But she doesn't suspect anything. Castle nods his agreement.

At least he's solved the mystery of his earlier unease. Some part of him knew that his flamboyant mother might be too much for a down-to-earth person like Clair. Apparently he needn't have worried. After their silent conversation, he sees a moment of indecision on her face, before she smiles and lifts his arm around her shoulders to snuggle against him. And it occurs to him, that now he really is home.

* * *

><p>Thursday morning, Beckett is discussing the case with the guys, when she sees Castle exit the elevator. He's immaculately dressed, as usual. There's no trace of the fatigue that was evident last time she saw him, and he's no longer pale. The effect of overall health is somewhat ruined by the fact that he's leaning heavily on a walking cane. Still, he's looking very good for someone who almost died only a few days ago. When she stops talking and stares, the guys turn to see what she's looking at.<p>

Ryan exclaims, "Castle! You're walking."

"Very slowly, but yes, I'm walking."

Esposito leaps up to embrace him, saying, "Don't ever do that again, ok?"

"Trust me; I don't want to go through this again.

He makes it to the chair by Beckett's desk and eases into it. Beckett still hasn't moved or said anything, so he asks the guys, "Is she broken?"

Esposito says, "I think maybe she's happy to see you, Castle."

Beckett snaps out of it, saying, "No, I just can't believe you went with a walking stick. Isn't that a little 19th century?"

"Are you kidding? This is an exact replica of Edgar Allan Poe's walking cane." He shows them the silver pommel, with "_Poe_" carved in it.

Beckett maintains, "So, in fact, it's _exactly_ like a 19th century walking stick."

"I suppose so, but you make it sound so boring. This even has the inbuilt secret sword."

There's the distinctive singing rasp of metal-on-metal, as he unsheathes the concealed weapon. But Beckett stops him, saying, "A police station is not the place to be waving your sword around, Castle." Then glares at the guys, when they giggle. Something occurs to her, and she asks, "How long have you had this, hoping for an opportunity to show it off?"

Embarrassed, he admits, "College."

A stunned silence follows this revelation. So Beckett changes the subject, "What are you doing here, Castle? You don't look well enough to follow me around."

"No, but I caught up on all my TV shows yesterday. So I thought there might be something I could do that doesn't involve much walking. Where are you on the case? I know you got the nephew. But there must have been, at least, one other person involved."

"Now, how could you possibly know that?"

"The video of the fire. The guy you shot didn't have eight arms. So he couldn't have driven the car, thrown Molotov cocktails and recorded the whole thing on his phone."

"We've concluded the same thing ourselves. So we've been looking into known associates. Most of his friends are equally into guns, and against immigrants. Seven of them don't have a plausible alibi for the night of the fire. It seems unlikely that there were eight people in that car, so we were just discussing how to narrow it down."

Castle ponders for a while, and asks, "What about a line-up?"

"A line-up is no use, Castle. Djeneba didn't see any of them."

"No, but there were voices on that recording."

When he sees the moment of comprehension in her eyes, he realizes how much he's missed it. Beckett says, "Dave! Nice job, Castle." To the guys, she says, "Call Dave Green and see when he can come in. Then we can round up all the suspects. It won't be enough to convict. But we'll know which guys to lean on. And it should be enough to hold them, while we dig for more evidence. Talk to Tactical Response, and let them know we might need their help on a coordinated search of multiple homes. Make sure they understand how dangerous these people are. No one gets shot this time."

Immensely pleased with himself, Castle slowly stands and says, "Well, my work here is done. Time for a cup of coffee." Beckett watches him ease his way to the break room. He's apparently talking to himself, but she realizes he's actually talking to the espresso machine, "Hello, my darling. Daddy's home! Did you miss me? Of course you did. I missed you too."

* * *

><p>Having heard the unabridged version of the fire video, including the victims' screams, Dave is keen to help. So the suspects are rounded up and they have their line-up before lunch. It's a slow process, but using phrases taken from the video, Dave Green is able to identify three young men as the most likely suspects. All three men are arrested. They immediately demand a lawyer. But it makes no difference to Beckett's plans. And they get the necessary warrants, to investigate their suspects.<p>

Before the day is finished, Forensics can place all three men at the scene, using information taken from their cell phones. Meanwhile, police officers raid their homes. Prepared this time, no shots are fired. And they make two more arrests, on illegal firearm charges. By shift's end, Crime Scene are working overtime to find the nail-in-the-coffin for their suspects. Ryan and Esposito are assisting.

Back at Homicide, Beckett can see beads of sweat forming on Castle's forehead, and his limp is becoming more pronounced. So she says, "That's it for you, Castle. Go home."

Revealing just how much he's suffering, he doesn't even fight her, saying, "Yeah, I think maybe that's enough for today. Thanks, for letting me be useful."

"Any time, Castle. But there's no need to hurry in tomorrow. We've got these guys now. It's just a matter of time."

"Ok, thanks." Just then his phone rings, and he excuses himself for a few seconds. Not really listening, Beckett can't help overhearing, "No. No, I'm fine. I'll be there soon. Bye, sweetie." Putting his phone away he explains, "Alexis. She's a little attentive right now."

"You know why, right?"

"Of course. But I'll still be happy when she gets back to not caring about me."

Beckett smiles, and says, "I doubt that's ever going to happen." The phone call has jolted her memory, and she says, "That reminds me; on your phone, exactly why is my caller ID cover art of Nikki Heat?"

Panicked, Castle is trying to work out how she could know that, when he remembers that he gave her his phone when he was shot. Realizing there's little point in denying it he tries anyway, "Honest mistake?" She's obviously not falling for that, so he says, "Sorry. I suppose I should change that, before Clair sees it?"

"Might be a good idea. 'Night, Castle. See you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow."

* * *

><p>When Castle returns to his apartment, Clair is there. With Martha elsewhere, and only Alexis for company, Clair is much more relaxed this time. They've even cooked dinner. It's the first proper meal he's had all week. So he's feeling pretty good, despite being in quite a bit of pain after overdoing it. The girls won't let him help clear. So he collapses onto the sofa. Suddenly exhausted, he swings his legs up and lies down. He has no intention of going to sleep, but something about the sound of Alexis and Clair chatting while they clean up is incredibly soothing.<p>

When he wakes up Clair has been kissing him, and is just pulling away, so he reaches for her. But she rocks back on her heels, saying, "Time to go. I didn't want to leave without saying goodnight."

"What time is it?"

"It's after eleven, Rick. I think you'd better reconsider going to the station tomorrow, if it's going to wipe you out like this."

"Maybe. Beckett says it's all over bar the shouting anyway."

"They got them?"

"In the process of doing so, when I left."

There's something in her eyes he doesn't recognize, when she says, "Good."

"You ok?"

It's gone again, whatever it was, when she says, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'd better go. And you'd better go to bed."

"Would you help me get there?"

She laughs, and says, "I'm not sixteen, Rick. There's no way I'm falling for that."

Uncaring that his ploy has failed, he says, "Well, it was worth a shot. Goodnight."

She kisses him again, and leaves, saying, "Night, Rick."

Castle gets ready for bed, all the while pondering the mystery of that strange look on Clair's face. He's brushing his teeth, when he recognizes it, but shakes his head at the absurdity of it. But the feeling persists, until he's certain that he saw hate in her eyes.

* * *

><p>After a leisurely start to the day, Castle calls Beckett to explain why he won't make it to the precinct after all. She says, "That's ok, Castle. Take it easy. We got 'em. Forensics evidence puts them at the scene, and provides us with their means. And we already have evidence of motive in every word they've ever communicated. Then the one who recorded the attack on his phone was persuaded by his lawyer, to make a full confession, in return for a lesser sentence. So we officially have enough evidence to convict them twice over. Plus a couple of firearms and narcotics charges thrown in."<p>

"I sense a small celebration in the break room this evening?"

"Absolutely. If you're feeling up to it, you're welcome to join us. And there's going to be a memorial service for the victims, at the scene, on Sunday. Mr. Bagayoko has been swamped with offers of support from the community. He'd prefer the funeral to remain private, but has consented to this public service, as a thankyou."

"I'll be there." He hesitates before saying, "Hey, Beckett…look, never mind."

"Something wrong?"

"I don't know. Something's bothering Clair, and she's been kind of cagey about her past. And you know more than you've told me. So, I was going to wheedle it out of you. But, apparently, my innate curiosity is becoming outweighed by guilt. You don't suppose it's possible, that I'm becoming sensitive to other peoples' feelings do you?"

"It's just the drugs, Castle. I'm sure you'll be back to annoying the hell out of people soon. But…some friendly advice?"

"Listening."

"When she trusts you, she'll tell you. And, if you push her, you'll damage that trust."

"Yes, I remember. Thanks, Beckett. If I don't fall asleep again, I'll see you later."

* * *

><p>After making a few phone calls, Castle ponders how to fill the day. He tries writing, but can't concentrate. And even walking around the apartment leaves him sweating in pain. He's wondering whether someone can actually die from boredom, when Clair calls, saying, "Bert called me." Castle is suddenly worried, that he's in trouble for interfering again, as Clair continues, "It seems that he got a call from the Mayor's office. They've offered him the chance to transfer his Medal of Valor to the teenage boy killed in the fire. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"<p>

"I suppose that depends on how _you_ feel about it?"

"Bert's happy, so I'm happy."

She doesn't really sound happy, so he's wary, and says, "Look, I know there's a lot you're not telling me." He can almost hear her tension, as he continues, "And I want you to know, that I'm ok with how things are. Other than the distinct lack of omelets, of course. But what we have is good…what we have is great. You don't have to tell me a goddamn thing, ok?"

Her answer is almost inaudible, "Ok. Thanks, Rick."

Breathing a sigh of relief, that she now seems all right, he says, "There's a modest soiree at the precinct this evening, to celebrate breaking the case. I'm sure you'd be welcome?"

"Sounds good. I'll meet you there…actually, are you busy right now?"

"When you rang I was considering adding a new character to my latest book; an unfortunate man who is, literally, bored to death."

Clair laughs, and says, "Then you won't mind a visitor?"

"It would be the high point of my day."

* * *

><p>Not even knowing why he's nervous, Castle spends some frantic minutes making himself presentable, before Clair's visit. His nerves are practically humming, by the time she arrives. So that he's not even sure if he should kiss her. When she only kisses him on the cheek, his heart plummets, and he says, "Oh God, I'm really in trouble, aren't I?"<p>

Confused for a second, Clair realizes how her actions must seem to him, and kisses him properly, before saying, "No, you're not in trouble. But I need to tell you something, and it's not easy for me."

"What can I do?"

She motions to the sofa, so he sits down. Clair perches on the coffee table, opposite him. She won't meet his gaze, and her hands are clenched together so tight, they're turning white. So he reaches out to take her hands in his, but notices her slight recoil, and thinks better of it. Forcing himself to relax, when his heart is beating so loud that he wonders if he'll be able to hear her speak, he sits back and waits.

It's the right thing to do. Because he sees Clair relax a little in response. Still, it's several seconds before she says, "I think this might be easier, if you wait until I've finished, before you say anything, ok?"

He gulps, and says, "Ok."

Breathing one slow, unsteady breath she begins, "You and I have more in common than you know. For one thing, I chose the name Winter. And I've also been married twice. My first husband's name is Greg Willingham. We met when I was sixteen. He's older than I am. He was charming, and gentle and spent two years persuading me that I could never need anyone else. So we got married on my eighteenth birthday, with my parents blessing. I remember being very nervous. Looking back, I realize that was a warning. But it seemed so natural at the time. The only clue I was consciously aware of was his tendency to tell little lies…silly things, like telling my parents that he'd always wanted a house in the country, when I knew that he couldn't even stand being in the country long enough to endure a picnic. After we got married, there were more clues…"

Her silence is almost unbearable. So Castle has to bite the inside of his cheek, to keep quiet. Finally she continues, "Turns out, he is not a nice man. The experts tell me that he's a psychopath, and I can only agree. I would have left him within months. But I was already pregnant, and not nearly brave enough to go through that alone. I know that my parents would have helped me. But one of the symptoms of the sickness that kept me with him, was a desire to pretend that things were ok. And things did get better, when I told him that I was pregnant. I realize now, that it meant one more possession for him. Like someone looking forward to buying a new car."

Her voice is breaking. Castle risks one word, "Water?"

At her nod, he fetches a glass of water, resisting the urge to accidentally touch her hand, and sits back down. Clair is trembling so much, that she needs both hands to take a few sips, and put the glass down, before continuing, "The reality of being a father, however, was too much for his ego. He couldn't stand our son getting so much attention. Still, it was several more months, before I was cured of my sickness. And I fled to my parents, with my son. They'd been fooled by Greg too. But they believed me, and took me in. He tried to get to us. He tried for a long time. Eventually he gave up, and I could finally relax."

Clair leans forward, putting her head in her hands. Castle actually reaches out to touch her, before sitting on his hands, to keep them still. She soon recovers and sits up, and he's surprised to see that she's smiling, as she says, "We named him Luke." But the smile soon fades, and she looks away again, before explaining, "You're a reasonable man, so you might not know that the divorce process is torturous and slow, when one party resists. He struggled against the inevitable for as long as he could, before he got angry enough to come to my parents' house, with a gun. I was out. So he killed them and took Luke. I still don't know how he got my number. I presume he'd had me followed for a long time. He called me…" She lunges to her feet, nearly giving Castle a heart attack, and says, "I can't do this! I'm sorry, Rick. But I can't do this."

"Ok."

She looks at him; freshly scrubbed, casually dressed, sitting on his hands and looking shell-shocked. And she remembers that he's no one to be afraid of. So she paces for a while, before sitting down again, and says, "I don't think Luke would have even known to be scared. Certainly the manager of the hotel Greg went to didn't notice anything amiss, when they checked in. He doped Luke with cough medicine. Then he put him to bed and doused him with lighter fluid. That's when he called me…so I could hear him set our son on fire. The police arrived in time to arrest Greg, but not in time to save Luke." For the first time since she started speaking, tears roll down her cheeks, as she continues, "I didn't know, until the trial, because I was already dialing 911. But witnesses say that Luke died screaming for his Mommy."

It's shock, not compliance, that keeps Castle silent. Unmindful of his injury, he drops to his knees and holds her, until she's finished crying. Then he wipes the tears away with his sleeve and kisses her, until she stops trembling.

When he's finally able to speak, he asks, "And that's how you met Bert?" At her surprised look, he explains, "You said that you've seen him cry twice."

"Yeah, he was first responder to that fire too. And we got to know each other, during the trial, and afterwards he just wouldn't go away. I think maybe he was worried, that I'd kill myself if he left me alone too long...maybe he was right. He'll always be important to me, but he proposed out of pity, and I accepted out of gratitude. Not that we didn't have good times, but what we have is a better foundation for friendship, than marriage."

Castle has heard her, and says, "I don't pity you. Considering that you're possibly the toughest person I've ever met, I'm more likely to fear you." And there's that ache in his chest again, when she smiles.

Much more relaxed now, Clair removes her arms from his shoulders, saying, "Thanks, Rick. I think I'm ok now. You can get up."

Grimacing in pain, he says, "Actually, I didn't plan this very well. You'll have to help me."

* * *

><p>When Castle and Clair arrive at the precinct that evening, the celebrations have already begun. Castle is included in the many congratulations. This amuses him no end, considering that he spent most of the time in hospital, while others worked the case. Other than to take the keys of anyone drinking, even the captain relaxes. Apparently Beckett was wrong about swords in a police station. Because Castle's walking cane is a big hit. And Beckett eventually retrieves it for him, before anyone actually gets stabbed. Things are winding down, when a slightly inebriated Ryan and Esposito kidnap Clair, for a tour of the building. As she's walking away with them Castle cautions, "Whatever they tell you about me, it's a lie."<p>

She laughs and says, "I doubt that." Before being dragged of by the guys.

He doesn't realize Beckett is beside him, until she says, "Something's different."

Remembering that she already knows the details, he says, "Yeah. I know why she changed her name to Winter." After a pause, he asks, "Is he still in prison?"

Beckett considers his motives for asking the question, before saying, "Yes, and you don't have to worry. He's on my list, Castle. If anything changes, I'll know."

She's guessed correctly, and he breathes a sigh of relief, and says, "Thanks." Suddenly tired, he sits down on Beckett's desk, before saying, "She's coming to the memorial service."

Frowning, Beckett says, "You didn't tell her, that it's at the scene of the fire?"

"I told her."

Shaking her head in admiration, Beckett says, "Wow."

Nodding, he agrees, "Yeah."

A stunned silence follows, and then Castle nods to the rowdy crowd in the break room, saying, "You go have fun. I'll just rest here a minute."

Concerned, Beckett says, "Ok, take it easy. You sure you're ok?"

"Yep. I'll be fine. I just keep forgetting to pace myself."

After she's gone he puts his plan into action, and is just finishing when the guys return with Clair. It looks like they didn't tell her anything too terrible, because she seems very happy. Not completely feigning weariness, Castle says, "I think that's enough for me. I'll see you on Sunday, guys." Ryan hugs Clair goodbye, and Esposito kisses her hand, like a tipsy imitation of a gentleman. Beckett has seen that they're leaving, and joins them to say goodnight. Kate doesn't even hesitate, to hug Clair goodbye. But she looks scared when Castle spreads his arms wide, saying, "Come on. You deserve it." With a shrug she hugs him back, wondering just what medication he's been prescribed.

After they're gone, the three detectives rejoin the party. Beckett doesn't notice Ryan and Esposito whispering behind her back. She's returning to her beer, when someone says, "Hey, Nikki! How's it going?" Putting it down to alcohol, Beckett ignores it. But then someone else tips their glass to her, saying, "Hi, Nikki." After twenty minutes of this, Beckett is wondering if she's even awake. It's Ryan who finally takes pity on her, saying, "When was the last time Castle hugged you?"

So she knows to reach around on her back, until she finds the note, "_Call me Nikki_."

Finally able to laugh, Esposito eventually recovers, and says, "He did warn you to watch your back."

* * *

><p>Clair is working on Saturday, and Castle still has writer's block, so he needs to stave off boredom for another day. He resumes his daily walk. Though it's considerably shorter, and with many breaks. After exhausting himself, he needs another nap, and that takes him through until lunchtime. By then, Alexis has surfaced, and he's able to pester her for entertainment, until she flees to a friend's house. So he gets out a Nerf Stampede, along with the box of ammo, and puts fresh batteries in the gun. Next, he lines up several targets on the kitchen counter, before setting up a base in his office. He's gone through over 200 darts, when the doorbell rings. Limping over to the door, he sees that it's Clair. He weighs up his chances of picking up 200 darts in three seconds and decides it's impossible. So he lets her in.<p>

Clair kisses him hello, and says, "I finished early, and I thought you might like to…"

Wincing, because he knows what she's looking at, he turns to look at the mess and says, "I got bored again."

"So it would seem. Do you have one of those toy robot arms as well?"

"Yeah, somewhere."

"Ok, then you can use that, and I'll help you clean up."

It doesn't take long to clear the battlefield, and Castle asks, "What might I like to?"

"Oh, I thought you might like to have an early dinner…maybe Renoir?" At his nod, she continues, "And we've got much more chance of getting a table, if you call them."

After making the call, he says, "Done; 6pm."

Clair looks at her watch, and asks, "Do you have two of those guns?"

* * *

><p>Castle arrives early for the memorial service. It's already so crowded that he's glad he didn't drive. There are thousands of people, including a staggering police presence. Things have changed, since he was here on the morning after the fire. The remaining walls have been pulled down, leaving only rubble at the site. Countless bouquets of flowers and gifts, such as Teddy bears and other toys, adorn the site. Making it look more like a garden, or a toy store, than the ruins of a building. With no room on the sidewalk, the temporary stage is set up on the closed-off street. He spots Ryan and Esposito, looking very smart in dress uniform, and wades through the crowd to say hello. And then asks, "Where's Beckett?"<p>

Ryan says, "They're insisting on giving her a commendation, for shooting that guy. So she's not happy."

Esposito adds, "And after what you did Friday, I'd stay out of her way today."

"Thanks for the heads-up." He nods towards all the uniformed police, and asks, "What's with all the blue?"

Esposito says, "We got a tip that neo-Nazis were coming in from outside the city. So the commissioner thought a little visual deterrent might be called for."

Ryan adds, "And the mayor should be here any moment, so everyone is on show."

Esposito asks, "Where's Clair? I thought you two were practically one person?"

"Mr. Bagayoko's nephew has been awarded a posthumous award for bravery. And her ex is presenting the award, so she's with him for the day…moral support."

Ryan notices, "And you're not bothered, are you?"

"Not even a little bit."

Esposito claps him on the shoulder, and says, "Good for you. It takes a real man not to be threatened by a young, handsome, virile, heroic…"

"You might as well save your breath; it's not going to work."

Pouting, Esposito says, "If you're going to get all mature on us, we're not going to have any fun."

"I wouldn't worry too much. We have Beckett's revenge to look forward too, and then you can help me plan how to get her back."

They both cheer up at the thought. Then they have to say goodbye, as the mayor's limousine arrives. Exaggerating his limp a little, Castle manages to get a seat close to the front. He can see Clair, Bert, Beckett and Mr. Bagayoko near the stage. They all look equally nervous. Thankfully, the mayor has enough sense to keep things moving along. After a small introductory speech, thanking everyone for their support, he presents the Combat Cross to Beckett. Despite looking uncomfortable, at his effusive praise, she accepts in good grace. Next, the mayor introduces Bert, who lets go of Clair's hand to take the microphone. He's obviously unused to public speaking, but doesn't stumble too much over explaining why Mr. Bagayoko's nephew, Madou, deserves a medal for bravery. Mr. Bagayoko accepts it with his usual dignity, and then thanks everyone for the gifts and words of support, adding, "The things I've seen in my life have convinced me that evil exists in this world. But I've also seen enough to know that good thrives."

"…and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it." (Ecclesiastes 12:7) The Holy Bible

"To Allah we belong and to Him we shall return." (Surah Al Baqarah 2:156) The Holy Qur'an

The End

* * *

><p>Author's note: As per your request Ramos; more detail. I enjoyed it, thankyou. Though, looking at the word count, I'm worried that I've over-corrected.<p> 


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